Viridian Forest
As the mourning sun shimmered through the crisp early autumn leaves, I dug. I continued to dig. Warm beads of liquid salt rolled down the side of my head while a single file marching band of saline globules trickled down my spine. How long had I been toiling in the dirt like a curious badger? My long lean fingers weakly gripped the shovel while my quivering knees held my body upright with the last of their strength. My clothes were covered in dust and debris while my raven nest hair frizzed at the broken ends and clung to my face. I had definitely been burrowing aggressively for a long while. To someone walking past – not that this was anywhere near civilization – I would look like a treasure hunter. But I wasn’t. I was looking for something and it wasn’t treasure. I actually received the treasure a week ago. What I’ve been looking for, let’s just say, I don’t know.
